


Old Dog, New Tricks

by Xekstrin



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: BDSM, F/F, LET MOIRA BE A BOTTOM, Master/Pet, bottom Moira, gendered slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 07:45:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15044078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xekstrin/pseuds/Xekstrin
Summary: The Minister of Genetics has been kidnapped. Fortunately, she knows the kidnapper very, very well.





	Old Dog, New Tricks

 

The Minister of Genetics had been kidnapped.

The glow of a dozen monitors lit the cramped room, bright enough to highlight the sheen of sweat on her skin like swipes of white paint. Her robes had been torn in the scuffle, blood already stiff and dry on her billowing sleeves. Tied to the chair, she remained remarkably calm despite it all. 

Scanning her biometrics showed Moira’s pulse remained even and at rest, as though she were seated at her desk.

Sombra pulled the bag off of her head, smirking down at her.

"Any last words, Minister?"

Moira O'Deorain's lips were pressed into a long, thin line. Sullen and silent, it seemed she would do nothing but glare at her kidnapper until she suddenly let out a lengthy curse, rough syllables tumbling over each other in their eagerness to leap out and strike. "Go n-imi na seacht diabhail deag atá i n-Ifrionn i’d dhiaidh."

"Sorry, my translator didn't quite catch that." Sombra crouched in front of the chair, elbows propped on her knees and her chin resting in both her palms. "Wanna give it another go?"

At first she did not respond. The Minister examined the room, a flash of recognition lighting up her eyes. Damp hair pressed against her pale face, her head an unruly mop after being so roughly handled. She raised one shoulder to try and push it out of her eyesight to no avail, muttering in irritation.

"If you wanted me dead I'd never see anything except the inside of that bag ever again." Moira closed her eyes, tilting her head from side to side with an audible series of pops and cracks. "So let's hear your terms for my release. The sooner we get this over with the sooner I can return to work."

Bioluminescent paint curled and danced on Sombra's face as she spoke, a sugar skull dancing blue and mint green. It flipped with her mood, pink and red like a sunrise when Sombra's temper flared. "Well you could at least pretend to be impressed, y'know. Pulling this off wasn't easy, even for a gal with my connections."

"Sombra," Moira said shortly, "I _am_ your connections. I gave you access to my security systems with my own two hands."

"Yeah," Sombra said with a lazy smile. "You did, didn't you? Okay, okay, I'll play nice, even if you won't."

Sombra waved one hand at her. A hum and crackle assaulted her ears, but they were both used to it by now. As the glitching artifacts receded, the locks around Moira's arms and legs dropped to the floor.

"Finally," she muttered, standing up and dusting herself off. "Now do you want to explain why you killed my bodyguard? If you wanted me in handcuffs, Sombra, all you needed to do was ask."

Sombra sprang to her feet, walking circles around Moira as the Minister began checking the news reports flashing on every screen in the room. Every station was covering her kidnapping, since the prestigious private security company Helix had never lost a client before. "Hey, hey, don't walk away from me. You didn't say anything about my technique."

"What makes you think I even have an opinion?"

"You were black ops once, you've seen your fair share of abductions."

"Usually I'm the one holding the bag," Moira said.

"And..." Sombra rolled her hand, impatiently gesturing for Moira to continue.

"And you were sloppy," she said. "But I suppose that's part of your charm."

Sombra made a fist, pumping it into the air. "Yesss. I'll take it."

Moira nodded to the Oasis news cycle on repeat. Standing at her side, Sobra waved them all away until only one frame loomed over them both, bathing them in purple light. "Now explain?"

A pair of claws danced over her sleeve. "My little birds brought me news. Word is spreading that you're in cahoots with bad girls like me."

"So you attacked my estate to quell the rumors." Moira's mood was hard to read, as ever.  She focused on the recap of events, eyes darting over the screen. "Here I thought I was merely reaping what I sowed."

Tilting her head to the side, Sombra's mouth fell open in exaggerated shock. "Don't tell me you thought I stabbed you in the back for real?"

Moira's eyes darted down, staring at Sombra with no expression whatsoever. Tall and imposing, the Minister kept her emotions close to her chest. Even when she had been convinced that her companion had betrayed her, might even kill her.

Then she shrugged, and Sombra wasn't sure if she should be peeved or amused.

"We're going to free you when your estate gives us the ransom. You'll be released without a scratch." Sombra looked up at her, chin lowered. "Unless you don't want to be."

It would have been coquettish if it were not for her sharp smile, the way her smudged makeup shifted with her mood to turn pitch black. Sombra's eyes stood out among the shadows, the purple implants running calculations even now.

"So your true motive reveals itself." Moira huffed, pulling on her collar. The only sign she might not be as composed as she let on was how she was drenched in sweat.

Then again, Sombra's hideaway had no air-conditioning.

Wiping at her brow with the edge of her sleeve, Moira tried to smooth her loose hair back into place with not much luck. "You still owe me a new bodyguard."

Sombra waved it off. "She's fine. Helix has her on medical leave." Humor laced her words. "They'll probably feel so guilty for failing you they'll throw in extra units for the rest of the year."

"That will certainly make your job harder."

"Pft. Hardly. Being where I'm not supposed to be is my specialty, babe."

Moira's hand came down, stroking over the top of Sombra's head fondly. The mohawk sprung right back up after she patted it flat, making her smirk in amusement.

"Hey Moira," Sombra asked suddenly, pulling her hand down to rest Moira's palm over her cheek. "If I had been kidnapping you for real, would you have really responded like that? Not even a little mad about it?"

"I was displeased, but not surprised." Moira indulged her, turning to face Sombra so she could caress her face with both hands. "I could not have made it easier for you to double cross me, for whatever purpose you see fit."

Warmth bathed her, terribly familiar. Dangerous to feel so good about that. She wanted to feel disdain for someone who was so bad at playing the game, but it was hard to bring any harsh edge to her voice when she chastised Moira. "Well I hope you realize now how that's a bad idea."

Somewhere along the way she'd gotten past being insulted that Moira thought her betrayal was real. Now she'd moved right to distress, unsure what to do with the reckless woman in front of her, someone with no self preservation instinct whatsoever.

"Yes, yet I never learn. Though I do love your attempts to keep me in line."

It was odd, to say the least, for Sombra to realize that between the two of them she had more common sense. She was always ready for betrayal, obsessed with hoarding power so no one could ever hurt her again.

Meanwhile, for better or worse, Moira was simply not afraid of anything.

"Maybe one of these days the lesson'll stick, huh?"

Moira leaned over, mocking her with a smile. "Only one way to find out."

She always expected Moira to savage her every time they kissed. The woman was a predator and she made her propensity towards violence well known. Without her biotic grasp apparatus she wasn't capable of draining Sombra with just a touch, but that didn't mean she wasn't still dangerous.

But when she was like this, all that bloodlust simmered just under her skin, redirected inward. Sweet, and soft, and hot. Moira fell to her knees, unbidden, no longer wanting to keep up the strength needed to stand. Following her down, Sombra kept kissing her, mussing up her bright red hair.

If only the officials frantically searching for their Minister knew she was where habit found her every other weekend. A hot room pulsing with electric current, her robes pooling onto the floor like they melted clean off her body.

Underneath she wore a tight black bodysuit, one that covered her from neck to ankle. Sitting back on her heels, Moira's fingers toyed with the zipper at her throat, a little breathless as she gazed up at Sombra with her lips wet and parted, tongue wiping white makeup from her mouth.

When the bioluminescent paint touched Moira's skin, it caught fire. Deep, dark crimson smeared across her face, the kind of aching desire Sombra wasn't even sure she was capable of.

"God." Sombra barely recognized her own voice. She pulled down the zipper on Moira's displayed throat, the teeth stopping just at her navel to expose a long, thin triangle of white flesh. "Look at you. How long were you waiting for a little punk to beat some sense into you?"

A little steel returned to her spine. Moira sat up straighter, all that want hardening into mockery again. "I like how you assume you're the first to make the attempt."

She chose to ignore that. "Ven aquí, nena." Sombra prompted, patting her thigh to urge Moira closer. "I've got something special for my best girl."

The leather fit over Moira's jaw with no complaint, a steel cage locking her mouth from any functional use except talking. That was fine; Sombra kind of liked a mouthy sub.

Immediately Moira tested it. She touched the straps, finding where they attached and how, traced their outline over her head and chin. Her tongue washed the steel bright and shining, twisting to see how far from the cage she could escape, curling around the bars probably because she liked the feel of it. That was partly the reason she'd had the muzzle made; Moira had an oral fixation, something that Sombra did not always entirely enjoy.

"This is blunt," Moira said at last. "Am I being punished for something?"

"I don't like how you bite when I tell you not to."

That only made a manic gleam enter Moira's eye, her grin sharp enough to leave a mark all on its own. "I thought you might say it's because I'm a bitch."

Sombra snapped a leash onto the attachment, giving it a tug. "A dog knows how to follow orders."

She pulled the bodysuit off Moira's shoulders, letting it hang about her waist. Bending down, she kissed Moira's brow before joining her on the floor, leaving marks everywhere forbidden on her own body.

Moira sighed in relief, the noise a quiet huff as Sombra suckled on her breasts. Small silver rings adorned them, for Sombra to pull and tease with her tongue and her teeth until Moira was cursing faintly under her breath. Sombra’s fingers dipped between tight fabric and skin, coaxing out more, louder.  

Each greedy, demanding stroke drew liquid heat to the surface. Moira squirmed, gripping Sombra by the shoulders.

She pulled Moira in closer, one hand cupping the back of her head. "Are you going to be a good girl for me?" Sombra asked into her ear, wrist flexing as she slowly pushed inside her, slick and tight.

"Yes," Moira breathed. "Yes."

"Then stay still." She withdrew, dragging her tongue over her fingers as she got to her feet. In a moment she returned with a small container. Unscrewing it, she dipped her two messy fingers inside and began applying chalk-white paint to Moira. "We're gonna initiate you tonight."

Moira couldn't help but smile, chest shaking under Sombra's touch as she drew geometric outlines over her, spiky ribs and curling vertebrae. This was Sombra's special blend, the experimental one that shifted to match her mood. She was still working on making it semi-permanent.

Judging by the mess she'd left on Moira's face after kissing her, this batch was a wash. She needed to start from scratch, to find a formula that didn't dissolve with sweat and light touches. But that didn't mean she couldn't have fun with it first.

Moira still burned red-hot, glowing in the darkness. But as Sombra patiently worked, the Minister drifted into the base colors that came with no strong emotions at all: minty blue and green, relaxed and soothed. With a gentle hand on her hips Sombra turned her around, strippping Moira completely naked so she could finish the job.

"Let's keep these claws in check." Leather mitts cuffed around Moira's wrists, boxing her hands in tight. With a switch, Sombra activated the hard light attachment, lacing them up Moira's arms in a complex lattice.

Sombra traced a messy arc down Moira's spine, provoking a shiver.

Neon and glowing, painted and subdued. It was a beautiful sight.

She pressed Moira face down before spreading open her lips to admire the view. She left blue handprints over her ass and thighs, smoothing coarse red hair out of the way so she could roll her thumb over Moira's clit.

Moira lit up instantly in response, sharply brought from calm to heat. She traced a circle around her entrance, fingering her roughly in between gently petting her clit. A ripple of color washed over her from head to toe. Pink and orange and red, so pretty, quivering in and out with white and neon blue. Moira looked a bit like she'd been fucked by something not entirely human, her cunt drooling, smeared with pigment.

Moira was sharp and knobby angles, and a soft pale belly, and a big curvy ass. Not entirely the type Sombra liked to go for, but she'd warmed up to the Minister.

Lost in thought and too amused for her own good, she didn't even realize how tortured Moira was until she heard her squeeze out two words between gritted teeth.

"Sombra. Please."

Moira trembled underneath her, gasping for breath.

Pausing, Sombra waited until she heard it again.

"Please!" Moira turned her head to glare at Sombra over her shoulder, red eye blazing with anger. "Isn't that what you want me to say?"

She coiled one fist into Moira's short cropped hair, pulling hard. "I want you on your knees."

More hard light hummed, criss-crossed over Moira's hips, the strapon tucked securely between her legs. What remained of the paint on Sombra's hands trailed up her twitching stomach, coated the cold metal rings on Moira's chest in mint blue.

"Good girl," Sombra said, so pleased and low it could only be called a purr. Her hands dropped to her waist, shucking her pants off and kicking them aside. Then she tugged on the leash, forcing Moira to struggle forward on her knees. "Now fuck me."

With her arms bound, maintaining balance proved a struggle. Sombra didn't make it easy for her, snuggling close so that her back was pressed to Moira's painted chest. Her legs spread wide over Moira's lap as she sank down onto it. She was wet just from watching Moira squirm and beg, but it still took her a moment to adjust to the toy's girth.

"You're a big one, aren't you?" she teased, reaching behind her to stroke Moira's face.

The steel cage over Moira's mouth bumped against her head with a pointed whack. "You're the one who bought it."

Sombra yanked her leash again, hard. "This is why you aren't allowed to come until I do, you little shit."

Mora growled in response, arching her hips up and bucking against Sombra. She strained to please her with nothing except a cock, working for every thrust. Sombra forced her to work for it, harder than she'd ever done before.

Her bad attitude didn't last long. Pressing her caged face against Sombra's shoulder, Moira nuzzled her neck in an attempt for mercy, changing her tune at once.

"I'm sorry," she said, rolling upwards into Sombra. They moved together, Moira resting heavily against her. "But you know how I can best serve you, a ghrá. Take these silly things off and let me taste you..." A haughty, hot breath brushed against Sombra's cheek. "Please. Let me make you come."

An endless stream of sweet nothings spilled out, rough and demanding, occasionally spilling over into pure Irish that she couldn't begin to understand. Sombra just laughed. "I'll come either way, honey. The question is whether you will."

Moira stilled, quieting down.

"Fine," she spat.

Then she pushed forward, parting Sombra's legs with her knees and resting her full weight on top of her. "This is what you're after, eh? You want to be fucked by some—" a long shuddering breath. "—beastly thing in rut, you little whore, you—"

On trembling knees and elbows, Sombra was suddenly _very_ grateful for the muzzle. Doubtless her shoulders would have been covered with marks by now. She wound the leash tighter around her wrist, eyes closed as she tried to keep pace with each punishing stroke, a shocked gasp escaping her each time Moira bottomed out.

Moira’s tone changed, from pleas to spitting mad, spewing curses. A slur of English and Irish growled into Sombra's ear, frustration boiling over into fury. Tension grew in a white-hot ball, spiking when Sombra twisted her free hand between her legs. She spread herself wider, fingers brushing against wet silicone, the sound of flesh against flesh filling her ears.

Groaning, she bowed her head and came, rubbing quick circles around her clit. Pleasure throbbed like the low bass of someone's car speakers outside, thumping in her skull as she rode Moira's cock until the last aftershock petered out.

They both stilled, letting Sombra catch her breath. Sweat and come dripped, heat and paint sticky and tacky. Then, growing impatient, Moira knocked her face against Sombra's shoulder again, tapping her for attention.

Sombra sighed. "Moira, I hope you know that was _not_ something good girls do."

"Woof," Moira said flatly.

Rolling her eyes, Sombra loosened her grip on the leash and stood. She watched Moira wiggle backwards, helping her balance until she was sitting on her heels again.

Her face lacked any paint, but since most of it was covered up by the mask, Sombra figured that would have to do.

"Look at that face. I can never stay mad at you for long." She reached down, cupping her cheek. Her thumb played with the latch on Moira's muzzle. "Now say _I'm sorry_ and maybe I'll forgive you for being naughty."

"I'm sorry," Moira muttered, eyes averted. To her credit, there wasn't a shred of hesitation in the words.

An idea struck her. "Say _lo siento, jefa_."

Pale brows scrunched together. "Lo siento... jefa."

Sombra squealed. She grabbed Moira by both her ears, rubbing her face. "Aw! Your little gringa accent is sooo cute."

Flushed from exertion, Moira managed to turn even redder at the praise. "Hmm," she said, trying and failing to remain even-keeled.

Sombra undid the clasps and the muzzle fell free, much to her captive Minister's relief. "Thank you," Moira said, this time not needing any prompting from Sombra along the lines of _now what do good girls say when someone is nice to them?_

"Okay, okay. Now try this one on for size," Sombra said with a smile, running her nails over Moira's scalp. She rubbed the soft skin on her jaw, soothing away marks left by tight leather. " _Perdóname, jefa. Soy una perrita muy, muy mala y necesito ser castigada_."

Moira paused. "You're going to need to run that by me one more time, darling."

Sombra cackled. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, she stroked Moria's head, guiding her forward. This time with a gentler touch. "Nevermind," she said. Then lower, needier. "Make it up to me another way."

Moira didn't need more prompting than that. Even with her hands still bound, she was giddy with newfound freedom, eager to suck and stroke Sombra's wet lips. She licked a long line over her entrance, roughly lapping with the flat of her tongue as if she would be punished for missing even a single drop.

After being denied, her oral fixation returned in full force. Sombra had tested it once, to see when Moira would get tired of licking her to completion. She'd had to tap out first, with Moira still tongue-deep inside her.

Just like then, Moira dove her pointed tongue inside, mouth wide open so Sombra could hear the occasional whine from her, deep throaty little gasps.

Again Moira's body paint was solid red, no conflict in her desires at all. Her eyes opened, half-lidded and unfocused. Her lips shining wet, sucking on Sombra's clit in between gentle laps.

Sombra came with a shudder, gaze locked with hers.

She breathed heavily, chest jumping with every staggered breath. One hand kept Moira tight against her, the other clutching the edge of the mattress. Slowly, she let both go. With another murmured instruction, she had Moira turn her back so she could undo the arm binder and free her hands.

In a moment she returned with a glass of cool water. Moira was still kneeling in front of the bed, her head lolling as if she might fall asleep right there.

"C'mon," Sombra said, sitting next to her. She stroked her back gently as Moira guzzled down the glass. "Let's get you cleaned up."

In the awful, sticky heat of the city, a cool bath was a welcome relief. Moira sank deep within, dunking her head underwater for a solid minute before emerging with a rush of bubbles and a gasp.

Kneeling next to the tub, Sombra rested her hand on the porcelain rim and grinned. "Feel good?"

"Yes," Moira said, and tilted her head to the side when Sombra lathered up her hands and started washing her hair. She closed her eyes, relaxing into the touch, and only paused to turn her head and nip Sombra right on her wrist.

Sombra scowled darkly, splashing a big handful of water into her face. "You're a brat," she said, slicking Moira's hair back with soap and bath water.

"Your methods are inconsistent," Moira said, matter-of-factly. "How am I ever going to be properly trained if you spoil me so?"

"We'll find a way yet," Sombra promised. "Trust me."

She drained the murky water and filled the tub again, this time peeling off her top and jumping in.

Pressing herself to Moira with a kiss, she played with her some more under the pretext of bathing her. She toyed with her nipples again, pulling her closer by the rings and humming in approval when Moira returned the favor.

"Do you think you earned a treat?" she asked, fingers finding her under the water.

"Yes," Moira said immediately.

"Of course you do." She kissed her again, touching her firmly.

Sombra thought there was something beautiful in the way Moira gave up control to her. She'd been burned too many times to ever trust someone the way Moira seemed to trust her. It was self-indulgent the way only very assured, very confident people could be. It was given with the air of invincibility, with the idea that even if Sombra betrayed her, well, it wouldn't be the first time, it wouldn't be the last.

Moira was strong, Sombra thought as she broke her into little pieces. She didn't know what it was like to go hungry, yet she was always starving for more. Sombra didn't know where that hunger came from, just that she recognized it in herself, as well.

Her clawed hands gripped the sides of the tub, head thrown back as she gasped and twitched needily onto Sombra's fingers.

When she came, Moira curled forward with a groan. Her arms wrapped tight around Sombra, the water splashing over the lip of the tub. Keeping her close, she rubbed her head against Sombra's, sighing in relief.

"You didn't bite me this time," Sombra noted, feeling a little proud. "I guess you're not too old for me to try teaching you new tricks, huh?"

She kissed Moira's cheek. "What do you say?"

Moira smirked, eyes narrow with contentment as she stroked down Sombra's hip with the back of her hand. "[Try](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GdGKlTyGeR0)."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Painting your partner is all well and good, but make sure to wash your hands before you fingerfuck them! Don't use experimental paint as lube!!! 
> 
> Inspired by [this](https://dbearllama.tumblr.com/post/175012276143/kidnapped) piece of fanart and [this one](https://kurosb.tumblr.com/post/175100894468/take-care-of-your-dog-and-cat).


End file.
